


introduction to gender binaries (or lack thereof)

by zayheathers



Series: frankie + annie one-shots [3]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Exploration of gender expression, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, bi!annie, butch!frankie, slight slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:15:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25443787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zayheathers/pseuds/zayheathers
Summary: But there’s a thing that’s been pressing her mind from the moment she saw Frankie sat by the window, jacket draped on the back of her chair, nude men’s pants with a belt and rolled up sleeves baring her forearms. And so, after a few more moments of conversation, she asks, “Why don’t you dress like this at Greendale?”
Relationships: Frankie Dart/Annie Edison
Series: frankie + annie one-shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1730638
Comments: 10
Kudos: 60





	introduction to gender binaries (or lack thereof)

**Author's Note:**

> buckys and I went galaxy-brain over butch!frankie, and so here we are

The first time Annie sees Frankie outside of the Greendale environment, she’s wearing a pair of belted brown men’s slacks and a black turtleneck. It’s… a little strange, to say the least. She’s gotten so used to seeing the woman in pencil skirts and cutesy blouses that she didn’t even think about how she might not be the most comfortable in high heels and small, fitted bottoms.

  
  
  


As Annie watches her drink tea and write something into her binder—some things stay uniquely Frankie—she can’t help but think the woman looks  _ so  _ much more at ease with herself than she ever did in what Annie’s guessing is her work attire. Except for that one time she called an emergency meeting and showed up in jeans and a t-shirt, but she digresses.

  
  
  


From where Annie stands, it looks like Frankie’s working. Her hair has been pulled into a tight ponytail, and her sleeves have been rolled all the way up to her elbows. There’s a ridiculously cute crease in between her eyebrows, and the fingers that massage her temples make Annie want to take all that stress away, somehow. And so she decides to join her.

  
  
  


“Hey Frankie,” she says, warm smile on her face as she sits down. True, she’s only known the woman for a month, but she feels extremely comfortable around her already.

  
  
  


“Annie? Uh, hello.”

  
  
  


“Hi,” she says again, because the slightly confused expression on the other woman’s face is just teetering on the edge of adorable. “I didn’t know you knew this place.”

  
  
  


“Well, it’s a productive place to get my work done,” Frankie answers, eyebrow raised and head tilting, and Annie sighs a little, placing a hand on the arm laid on the table besides the small stack of papers as she sits down across her. 

  
  
  


That’s another thing about Frankie, she’s remarkably tactile, and accepting of touch. It’s refreshing, Annie thinks, to have someone be so touchy without a second thought. Not that she’s touch starved, of course, but it’s just nice.

  
  
  


“Don’t you ever stop?” It comes out of her mouth before her brain gives it permission to, but she finds, unusually, she doesn’t freak out too much at the fact that she’s spoken her mind.

  
  
  


“Stop what?”

  
  
  


Frankie can be so incognisant sometimes, but Annie thinks, with a smile, it’s a little endearing. “ _ Working.” _

  
  
  


The woman raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you seen as an obsessive, work-a-holic type? The control freak of the group?”

  
  
  


“Well,  _ yeah _ , but that was a long time ago. And even then I took breaks.”

  
  
  


“Of course I take breaks. Productivity is only decreased the longer one may go for a continuous period of time. But I can’t stop  _ now _ , I’ve almost finished the Dean’s paperwork.”

  
  
  


“You’re doing the Dean’s paperwork?”

  
  
  


“If I let Craig do his own paperwork any longer, the school would be in shambles and we’d all be dead, you know it. Besides, my talent is unsurpassed.”

  
  
  


She resists the urge to smile, but knows it makes it onto her face anyway. Still, she feels the need to defend him. “The Dean can be…  _ competent _ ,” Annie starts, but whatever she’s about to continue with is stopped in her mouth when Frankie makes a sudden movement. Her arms go behind her head to re-tie her ponytail, and only then does Annie realise her own hand had been grasping Frankie’s forearm for a pretty long time before having to move. It’s weird that it doesn’t make her feel awkward.

  
  
  


“Maybe,” she says with a small smile pulling at the side of her lips, “but his moments are few and far inbetween.”

  
  
  


“I guess,” Annie nods, following along, but there’s a thing that’s been pressing her mind from the moment she saw Frankie sat by the window, jacket draped on the back of her chair, nude men’s pants with a belt and rolled up sleeves baring her forearms. And so, after a few more moments of conversation, she asks, “Why don’t you dress like this at Greendale?”

  
  
  


Frankie looks down at her attire, like she’s noticing it for the first time, and actually looks kind of lost for words. “Oh. Uh…”

  
  
  


“I mean,” she says, quick to clear things up, “not in, like a bad way. You, you look good. More like yourself. I was just wondering…”

  
  
  


There’s a sigh coming from the older woman, and for a moment Annie thinks it’s directed at her, but then Frankie looks at her and she knows that was never the case. “I-it’s not the most  _ interesting _ story. I’m not sure how to go about the details, so I’ll be frank. I was… harassed in my first college consultant job—for ‘dressing like a man’—and promptly fired.”

  
  
  


“ _ What _ ?” Annie gasps, because the nonchalant way of saying it really doesn’t go with what she’s saying  _ at all _ , “why?” Frankie only shrugs.

  
  
  


“For not conforming to their ideas of gender, femininity, and women in positions of power, I’m assuming. They never felt it necessary to tell me.”

  
  
  


“Oh. So you changed yourself… for them?”

  
  
  


“Not for  _ them _ , exactly, but to make my life easier. It’s already difficult enough being a woman in administration, I wasn’t going to make discrimination a simpler path for my coworkers to follow. Presenting as feminine while being a woman is not always comfortable, but it makes society comfortable. What can I say, I’m boring even in the ways I conform.”

  
  
  


Annie scoffs, and Frankie takes a sip of her tea. “You’re not  _ boring _ , Frankie.”

  
  
  


“I’m not? I was under the impression your friends thought so.”

  
  
  


“Well… they can be really…  _ judgy _ sometimes. But they’ll get over it.” To her surprise, Frankie grins at this. It’s really quite a pretty, contagious smile, and Annie beams in response.

  
  
  


“Oh, I’m sure. But I’m glad I have you, at any rate. If it wasn’t for all  _ your _ hard work, I wouldn’t be able to complete half the work  _ I _ do.” Annie flushes at the complement, her smile growing just a little wider.

  
  
  


“It’s nothing, really,” she deflects. “I mean, I’m really glad for  _ you _ and everything you’ve fixed and done for Greendale!”

  
  
  


Frankie's smile stays fixed on her face as she flips some of the hair out of her face and continues, “Which couldn’t have been done if not for your dedication and determination.”

  
  
  


Annie’s about to reply, ready to engage in what would no doubt have been an extremely long complement war, but the waitress comes by with a kettle. She’s cute, Annie’ll give her that, and it’s painfully obvious she’s interested in Frankie, especially in the way she curls her blonde hair around her finger and doesn’t even spare Annie a second glance.

  
  
  


Somehow, the fact that this woman is so clearly into her makes Frankie seem just that little more appealing. (Yeah, Annie has a problem, but she knows this, okay?)

  
  
  


“Here’s your hourly tea, Frankie. Can I get you anything else?” Frankie shakes her head, innocent in the most earnest way, and smiles politely.

  
  
  


“No, that’s okay,” she says, then turns to Annie, placing a hand on her own (and Annie feels the unwilling smirk grow on her face, even though she knows it’s kind of mean), and asks, “Would you like anything? I can pay.”

  
  
  


The smile she shoots back at Frankie is no doubt a bright one, judging by the grimace that falls on the waitress’ face. “No, I’m okay, Frankie.” Here, Annie notes with satisfaction, the waitress leaves. “Uh, but, actually,” she checks her watch, realises it’s been longer than she’d thought, “I think I should get going. I should've been back at the apartment half an hour ago—Britta’s having a crisis and gets  _ extremely _ needy when stressed. I’m so sorry Frankie—”

  
  
  


“It’s okay,” Frankie says, and it’s said with such conviction Annie wants to believe her, but she can still see the smile fall from her face, just a little, “you should make sure Britta’s on the better side of stability. I can continue my work. But thank you... for teaching me how to take a break.” There’s a teasing smile on her face, and it makes Annie laugh.

  
  
  


“Anytime.” She stands to leave. “Oh, and Frankie, I know it might be completely weird the first time, but just so you know, I don’t think anyone at Save Greendale cares what you dress like. As long as you feel comfortable as yourself.”

  
  
  


“...Alright.”

* * *

The next Monday, Annie gets to Greendale early. Typically, she and Britta and Abed get there together, some way or another, but today she just felt like she needed a break. It’s a pretty strange experience, arriving alone (and so early, too), but she’s glad for it. Makes her feel… at peace. Serene almost. That is, until she runs into Frankie Dart.

  
  
  


Obviously, the woman is working—frantically trying to fix something the Dean did before school officially starts—but Annie takes one look at her and everything seems to move in slow freakin’ motion. Maybe Annie should have considered the effect of seeing Frankie in her ‘outside’ clothes in Greendale, because the juxtaposition is kinda throwing her entire world onto a whole new axis.

  
  
  


It’s not even like the outfit is particularly extravagant; she’s wearing a blue button down, the shirt sleeves rolled up to her elbows, tucked into black belted slacks, hair pulled up into it’s usual tight ponytail. It’s completely work-casual appropriate—anything  _ any  _ staff would wear to work. (Actually, maybe not Jeff with his stupid drab sweaters-and-jeans combo, or the Dean with either his beige shirts and ties or over-the-top costume, and  _ definitely  _ not Chang, whose clothes, even as a teacher, never seemed to be fitted to him ever. Maybe a more suave and less stuck-up Duncan?)

  
  
  


The thing that’s having the strongest effect on her right now is the stark contrast of  _ this  _ Frankie, and what Annie now thinks of as the old Frankie. She’s still  _ her _ , but more confident, more comfortable. It’s like the essence of Frankie has suddenly been magnetized, but instead of Annie feeling like she’s choking on it, she drinks it all in. Just a little too intensely.

  
  
  


“Annie?  _ Annie _ .”

  
  
  


“Oh, hi. Yes, hello.” She says, and Frankie gives her a weird look,

  
  
  


“You okay there? You seem a little… out of it.”

  
  
  


“No,” she shakes her head. “I just, I just…”  _ need to come up with an excuse, like, now _ . “I noticed the collar of your shirt looks a little tight, and I, um. I think it would look better if you did it up a little differently.”

  
  
  


“Oh?” Frankie looks intrigued, cocking her head slightly to the side in a mannerism so similar to Abed, Annie has to sternly tell herself to stop finding it so stupidly cute.

  
  
  


“Yeah.” Maybe this was a bad idea. “Can I, uh, can I show you?” Definitely a bad idea. Frankie nods, and Annie’s hands go to the collar of her shirt.

  
  
  


Now that she looks at it up close, it really  _ does  _ look tight. Maybe not tight on  _ Frankie’s _ neck, but just stiff enough, constraining enough, for Annie to realise something. “Is this a men’s shirt?”

  
  
  


For once, Frankie looks just on this side of sheepish. It’s not a look Annie’s used to, but also not one she’s  _ completely  _ averse to. “Oh, Yes, it is. I prefer the cutting this way, since it’s more breathable. If it makes you uncomfortable I can—”

  
  
  


“No, it doesn’t! It’s just,”  _ freakin’ hot,  _ “it’s nothing.”

  
  
  


“Really? Don’t lie to me, Annie,” and  _ Jesus _ does that low commanding tone do something to her insides.

  
  
  


“Seriously,” she says, clearing her throat. “it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

  
  
  


Before this, Annie had most certainly noticed her slight attraction to Frankie Dart. She’s a confident, take charge, pragmatic-type (which Annie happens to be a complete sucker for), sprinkled with a little bit of strangely charming social ineptitude that almost resembles Abed’s (which is what Annie’s calling it because, as far as she knows, it doesn’t really have a name). Of  _ course  _ Annie’s attracted to that. But that was before Frankie started walking around in men’s clothing which somehow makes her appear even taller, even stronger.

  
  
  


And just like that, Annie’s a goner.

  
  
  


_ Shit _ . 

  
  
  


“ _ Annie _ .”

  
  
  


“Huh,” she says absently, still lost to her thoughts, not realising that she still happens to be staring at Frankie’s (very nice) neck.

  
  
  


“You disappeared on me again. Are you  _ sure  _ you’re okay? I think you should sit down.”

  
  
  


Annie shakes herself again (but in her mind, obviously—if she started shaking right here and now then Frankie would  _ really  _ think something was wrong). “No, really Frankie, I’m okay.”

  
  
  


“Still, you should.” And without even letting Annie have another word, Frankie drags her to ‘her spot’, pulls out her chair, and sits her down (all while Annie is trying to remind herself why falling in lust—or love, but that thought is  _ way  _ too terrifying—with unattainable people is a  _ bad  _ habit and an addiction that must be fought against… It’s not working.

  
  
  
  


_ Shit _ .)

* * *

Surprisingly, the rest of the study group holds up for a fair amount of time before asking questions. Annie watches as heads flit from side-to-side, making eye-contact with each other then immediately looking away again. Discreetly, Annie exchanges an amusedly exasperated expression with Frankie, who, after an unsure moment, grins in return.

  
  
  


Finally, Jeff decides he’s tired of walking around the whole thing and says, “So, Frankie, are you aware that what you’re wearing is  _ not _ a skirt or did you suddenly go blind?”

  
  
  


“ _ Jeff! _ ”

  
  
  


“What? Everyone’s thinking it, I just have the balls to say it out loud.”

  
  
  


“Well,” Britta says with a glare in Jeff’s general direction, “we didn’t think you went  _ blind _ but,” she turns towards Frankie, “we  _ were _ wondering about this new… outfit choice…? Not that it’s not great. Women should be able to wear whatever they want in society because feminism a—”

  
  
  


“Why don’t you go preach at a statue, Britta? You’ll undoubtedly have more impact on it than on us.”

  
  
  


Frankie rolls her eyes at their bickering, changing the subject. “Alright, on the agenda for today—”

  
  
  


“Wait! You didn’t answer our question,” Britta says.

  
  
  


“I didn’t realise I owed you an answer,” Frankie says and Britta gives her a guilty look, “but to prevent you all from trying to get an answer out of me yourselves, which I’m sure you’re all plotting at this very moment,” more guilty looks are passed all around the table, “I was encouraged to be myself by a… close friend.” Making eye-contact with her, Frankie gives a small but subtle smile, and Annie feels like she’s just been introduced to the most precious inside joke.

  
  
  


Britta looks like she wants to say more, but that’s the end of that. Frankie is left to dress however she likes without comment.

* * *

“You know, when I was twelve, I tried to shave my own head,” Frankie says to her one Saturday, when they’re sitting at the cafe. It’s become a bit of a routine, Saturday brunch at this cute little cafe. Annie will pretend to just  _ happen  _ upon Frankie, and Frankie will pretend she hasn’t been waiting for Annie to arrive before ordering. It’s sweet.

  
  
  


She likes these quiet moments with Frankie, realises that Frankie acts a little different when it’s  _ just  _ Annie. She smiles more, it feels  _ way  _ more personal (because Frankie’s the type to give random anecdotes about her life, but the anecdote you get depends on the person you are), and it all makes Annie’s heart flutter in an annoyingly familiar way.

  
  
  


Sometimes, just like this, she starts a conversation with the most random, offhand of comments that’ll lead into a deeper conversation Frankie wants to have, and Annie’s left fumbling for something to say. “Oh,” she decides on, “how come?”

  
  
  


“It irritated me,” Frankie responds, with the most serious of faces and Annie can’t help but give a delighted laugh at just how perfectly Frankie that answer was. As always, in return, Frankie flashes her an unknowingly charming grin.

  
  
  


“I get that, I guess,” Annie says, once she yet again delivers her brain a memo to stop finding Frankie so darned cute. But then said not-cute woman’s face contorts into a frown as she starts thinking again.

  
  
  


“But, more profoundly, I just hated how it made me feel.”

  
  
  


“Huh,” Annie says, because she kinda gets that too. She understands what Frankie’s getting at—she thinks. “Do you ever think about getting it cut now?” The other woman gives her a doubtful look, and Annie decides then and there that she  _ will  _ get Frankie to cut her hair if it’s the last thing she does. “I mean, you have less to worry about now. Your parents don’t really have control over your choices now, and Greendale certainly won’t care.”

  
  
  


“But, wouldn’t be just any old, shoulder-length snip. It would be…” Frankie trails off, not sure how to proceed for once.

  
  
  


“I know,” Annie says, clasping a hand over Frankie’s, and she really does.

  
  
  


They end up at the hairdressers a half hour or so later, after paying for their meal and thanking Jenna the Jealous Waitress. Frankie’s still a little on the fence when it comes to deciding where to go, but Annie is insistent. In the end, they go to her favourite salon, where she gets her hair trimmed every year.

  
  
  


“l want it shaved,” Frankie says to the hairdresser. (His name’s Jackson, he’s queer, and Annie knows for a fact that he has done many a butch woman’s haircut. Don’t ask her why.) “At the back,” she clarifies. “Please.”

  
  
  


“Sure, honey,” Jackson says, taking it all in stride, and she can tell there’s an idea he has in his head. “D’you mind if I take a little… creative freedom? I  _ am  _ an artist, you know.” Annie nods her head when Frankie makes eye contact with her through the mirror, checking if she trusts the guy. After an affirmative yes, Jackson gets to work.

  
  
  


It takes a while. Not an insanely long time, but longer than it takes Annie and her trim. Jackson starts at the back and works his way to the front, and even draws her hair in front of her face to change her placement. Throughout it all, Frankie is stone-still, and even Annie finds it hard to know what she’s thinking.

  
  
  


When Jackson’s done, Annie’s first thought is that she’s never seen a jaw so… sharp. Walking around Frankie, she sees that the back has most definitely been shaved short, but not completely. The sides also, have been shaved, and her parting’s been changed from the middle to the right. Frankie runs her hand through it nervously, and Annie sees that there’s nothing that she can do to change the permanent slicked-back look of the front.

  
  
  


All in all, it’s… something. Annie feels her face burn up, which Jackson apparently can tell, because he catches her eye and mouths, “your welcome.”

  
  
  


“So,” she says, ignoring him and instead reaching out to play with the other woman’s hair a little, and it’s only at her touch when Frankie finally grins. Annie tries to make her sigh of relief a bit more subtle. “How do you like it?”

  
  
  


“I… like it. A lot.”

  
  
  


“Really?”

  
  
  


“Really.” 

  
  
  


Because she’s a little possessive, Annie holds her hand all the way back to her place. Logically, she knows she’s probably overreacting and imagining things, but she  _ knows _ she definitely didn’t imagine Jenna the Jealous Waitress bending a fork with a sour look on her face as they walk past. She tries to squish down the feeling of pride, but Frankie doesn’t seem to mind.

  
  
  


The woman just lets herself be dragged along, content for once to just let Annie take the lead. While Annie would  _ like  _ to believe it’s because she’s undergone some sort of transformation and is in awe of her, she accepts that it’s most likely because she’s thinking. (Frankie’s got that cute thinking face on).

  
  
  


She’s been in Frankie’s apartment before, usually for late-night drinks and report finishing (or starting, depending on the day of the week), and Annie finds she loves it there. While she sincerely  _ loves  _ living with Abed and Britta, being allowed in Frankie’s personal space is so freeing, so intimate.

  
  
  


Of course, considering the woman, it’s always clean, and incredibly organised. But there are those little touches of personality, small pops of colour, that really make the place  _ Frankie’s _ .

  
  
  


They’re quiet when they arrive though, which is weird because they usually always bring the conversation with them. Annie turns to Frankie, eyebrows drawn up in a confused frown, and is surprised to see Frankie smiling at her. “Uh… Frankie?”

  
  
  


“Annie.” The woman says, and Annie’s immediately grounded. “I would like to thank you.”

  
  
  


“I… Thank me?”

  
  
  


Frankie smiles again, laughing a little breathlessly as she briefly looks down, as if to gather her thoughts. “Yes. You’ve done so much for me, Annie. And I know _ you  _ know what you’ve done for me, so I’m not going to waste any time listing them. I just, want you to know that you are an incredible person and a phenomenal friend. You’re loyal and sweet, kind and funny, determined and passionate. And  _ I  _ am eternally grateful for you.”

  
  
  


Annie’s left to do nothing but stand and gape, completely dumbfounded, her heart racing and her face flushing. She thinks so highly of Frankie, it’s crazy to think she thinks the same way about her. All she can make her brain do is lean up a little and press Frankie’s lips to her own.

  
  
  


“I am ridiculously attracted to you,” Annie breathes against her lips as they pull apart just slightly.

  
  
  


Frankie grins, and she can feel the movement, even without looking. “I’ve noticed.”

* * *

Annie’s glad they have two weeks off, because she gets to keep her super hot girlfriend all to herself for a while.

* * *

Together, they decide to ‘reveal’ Frankie’s haircut to ‘the people that matter’ on Monday, the first day back from the break. Frankie had briefly toyed with the idea of wearing a hat the whole day, but Annie had, thankfully, talked her out of it.

  
  
  


They’d also discussed their own ‘coming out,’ but after Annie had given the go ahead, they agreed it was ultimately Frankie’s choice because it would mean confirming her sexuality.

  
  
  


Surprisingly, though, the group takes it well.

  
  
  


“Oh, Frankie,” Abed says once she’s finished the announcement, “I have pants I bought for you, a physical symbol of our acceptance of your divergent gender expression. Though, as I got them in the first episode of season six, as insight, the sizes may vary.”

  
  
  


“Abed,” Jeff, who is taking this news strangely mellow-ly (considering he had his own thoughts on Frankie’s preferences), “drop the schti—”

  
  
  


“Thank you, Abed,” Frankie says, cutting him off. “I am correct in assuming… you’ve held on to these for about…” She stops to think, “three episodes?”

  
  
  


“Two and a half actually. Halfway through the first.”

  
  
  


“Ah,” she says, as if she gets it (maybe she does), and Jeff sends her an incredulous look, like he can’t believe her. Annie knows the look on her face  _ will  _ soften into heart-eyes, so she tries as hard as she can to school her features. “Alright. Well, your acceptance means a lot to me.  _ All  _ of your acceptance.” She runs her hand through her hair, in a strange, new, but extremely cute, nervous tick. 

  
  
  


Annie coos an ‘aw’ in her head, because her girlfriend may not show it, but she’s so unbelievably sweet.

  
  
  


“Also, Annie and I have something to tell you all,” Frankie continues. “We are together. Romantically. We figured we owed it to you all, our honesty.”

  
  
  


Looks are passed around the table, and Britta’s mouth has dropped down into almost a perfect ‘o’. “Called it,” Abed says, in a characteristically uncharacteristic way. “Now pay up.”

  
  
  


“We didn’t bet on it, Abed. This isn’t some show for you to employ your useless tropes. Besides, if it was, we wouldn’t be the kind of show to resort to that kind of predictability.”

  
  
  


“Now,  _ that’s  _ dramatic irony.”

  
  
  


“ _ What _ are you _talking_ about?”

  
  
  


Annie laughs, feeling so unbelievably happy.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! as always, comments + kudos are loved but not mandatory :)


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